


The Loves of Buford van Stomm

by shopgirl152



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Act Your Age Universe, Aged-Up Buford, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Gretchen, Aged-Up Phineas, Burnt breakfast, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Implied Relationships, Kissing, Living Together, Love, Loves come and gone, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, One Year Later, Post-Reflections, Reflection, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Reflection, Slice of Life, Speculation, being in love, burning breakfast, headcanon pairing, how gretchen and buford got together, post act your age, proposal, relationships, speculation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopgirl152/pseuds/shopgirl152
Summary: Buford reflects on all the loves and important people in his life. All while getting ready to propose to one person in particular...





	The Loves of Buford van Stomm

**Author's Note:**

> Set one year after the events of Act Your Age.

"Aw man; that was fun today, wasn't it?" Buford grinned as he walked into the apartment, followed by Gretchen. "Gettin ta see everyone after not seein 'em for an entire semester?"

"It was lovely." Gretchen walked in the door, kicking off her heels. "I'm so glad everyone's in town for the summer. That's plenty of time to catch up and hang out."

"Yep." Buford plopped onto the couch, leaning back with his eyes closed. He smiled as Gretchen placed a kiss to his forehead from behind, placing something on his head.

"I'm going to change out of this dress and put on something more comfortable. I'll be back."

Buford patted his head as she left, grabbing the beret and sliding it down his face. It had become something of a game between them; they'd come home, Gretchen would kick off her heels, kiss his forehead, leave the beret on his head and announce she was going to put on something more comfortable.

He held it up to his nose, breathing in the scent of her vanilla and croissant perfume before setting the beret on his knee.

"I'm back."

He opened an eye and smiled. Gretchen was wearing a white oversized sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. He liked her in any outfit, but this one was his favorite. He could tell it was what she felt the most comfortable in. And she still looked hot, so that was a bonus. Not that he could ever tell her that.

"Come here." He leaned sideways on the couch, pulling her into his lap.

She giggled, playfully swatting his hand in mock annoyance. "Do you have to do this every night?"

"You never say no." He smirked.

"I should," she humphed, not really meaning it. "You're a brute." She leaned down and kissed him, brushing a strand of shaggy hair away from his face.

He closed his eyes, murmuring against her lips. "Ya like that about me."

"I do."

He pulled away, holding her at arm's length. "I like ya in that outfit."

"I know. That's why I wear it." She frowned, noticing his gaze going lower. She snapped her fingers at him in annoyance. "My eyes are up here honey."

"Oh." He blushed. "Sorry." He considered her statement a moment. "Can I touch 'em?"

"I'm not in the mood."

"Will ya be in the mood later?"

"Don't know. Ask me later," she said coyly, climbing off him and making her way to the kitchen.

Buford sighed in contentment, watching her backside as she walked across the living room. "I could watch ya walk away all day..."

"Keep it up and there won't be a later," she warned as she disappeared into the kitchen.

He groaned. "Well that's over with." He jerked slightly as his pocket vibrated, grabbing his phone before checking the caller id. "Yo Dinnerbell."

"Hey Buford. Have you asked Gretchen to marry you yet? I've been wondering about that ever since we went looking for rings a few weeks ago. I would have asked sooner, but..."

"You were distracted?"

"Yeah that." An awkward cough came over the line. "You know how it is; finals, packing up to come back home for the summer, Isabella...it's been pretty busy."

"I feel ya dude." He watched Gretchen walk into the room with two glasses of white wine, setting them on the coffee table before heading back into the kitchen. "Hey Phineas, does your woman ever run hot and cold on ya? Like one minute she's nice, the next she's chastising you?"

"Not really. Isabella's pretty even keeled and level headed. We're also equal partners in our relationship."

"Gag me."

"Y'know Buford, you might try not referring to Isabella--or any woman for that matter--as 'woman' or 'your woman.' They have names you know."

"I call you Dinnerbell."

"That was a nickname you gave me when we were nine. It stuck." Buford could hear the smile over the phone. "Don't think I could get rid of that nickname if I tried."

"It suits ya." Silence. "Hey! Don't roll your eyes at me!"

Phineas laughed. "Hey, I gotta go. Isabella and I are meeting up with Holly and Django for dinner. Good luck proposing to Gretchen; let me know how it goes."

"Will do." He hung up the phone, jaw dropping as Gretchen stepped in front of him wearing a bathrobe.

"You ready for a romantic evening?" She asked, seductively sitting on the edge of the couch, crossing one leg over the other so it showed a flash of her thigh.

"Oh yeah." Buford grinned as she climbed into his lap, discarding the bathrobe behind her before capturing his lips with hers, the two getting hot and heavy on the couch. He groaned into her mouth. "Gretchen, there's somethin...I've been meanin...ta ask--"

She pulled away, pressing two fingers to his lips. "Shh. Don't speak."

He moaned as Gretchen rubbed her hands down his body, starting at his face, working towards his neck and shoulders before working her way down. Her hands stopped rubbing, hovering over his shorts. "What do we have here?" she purred, her lips catchng his as she undid the single button on his shorts, unzipping them and slowy pulling them off, placing them in a heap on the floor.

Other than Buford's shirt, the only thing left was his underwear. And there was a little bulge waiting for her...

* * *

 

_Later that night_

Buford lay on the couch, eyes wide open, trying to calm his rapid breathing and racing heart.

Gretchen had quit a few hours ago, going from a fierce love making tiger to a gentle lamb. A lamb who was now laying curled up next to him, her gentle even breathing filling the room.

How is she not winded? he wondered, his heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm. He affectionately ran a hand down her naked body, marveling at the feel of her skin as he lightly traced her curves.

That was his Gretchen; calm, sophisticated and demur ninety-five percent of the time. But the other five percent? He whistled. Fierce, unforgiving and one hell of a love maker.

What could he say? He had a weakness for women that could beat him up, both verbally and physically. It probably wasn't the healthiest way to get an erection, but when had he ever been attracted to something that was actually good for him? He thought on that for a moment. Nothing came to mind.

His previous crushes had been the same way. First there was Candace, Phineas and Ferb's older sister.

He had initially been attracted to her when he witnessed her devouring an entire ball of licorice ropes in Phineas and Ferb's backyard the day they made the Gordian knot.

He smiled slightly. Man could she eat. And then there were the times she yelled at him.

He liked those moments.

Or the life sized mold he had made of her...

You know what? Best not to go down that line of thinkinh again. It had gotten him in trouble once. With the whole neighborhood actually. Making life sized molds of people wasn't the healthiest or most productive use of his time...

Moving on.

After Candace, there was Brigette. He sighed in memory. Ah Brigette. The beautiful, exotic French girl with the ugly American. What a sight they were. He chuckled; the Champs-Elysses, art museums, french bistros, the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame...French exotic culture everywhere. Brigette was the first woman who made him want to better his life and become a better, more well rounded person.

So he took French--and spoke it fluently; he softened his bully image and demeanor; he read stinkin Voltaire for cryin out loud. And read lots of French poetry.

He'd fallen in love with the language, the poetry, Brigette...and Paris in general.

In some ways, Brigette had softened him up, made him a better, more well rounded person. He still thought about her sometimes, often wondering where she was, what she was doing, was she dating anybody, was she converting said date into a better person? He also wondered if she had matured into a fine, sophisticated French woman, or stayed the spitfire he'd fallen in love with.

He would have taken either. Brigette was one of a kind. But it wasn't meant to be. He sighed, kissing his fingertips before making a gesture towards the window. "Au revoir."

And then his Baljeet phase. For some reason, he had developed a crush on his buddy soon after Brigette had rejected him. She'd slapped his face in disgust and told him good-bye. And for whatever reason, Baljeet had been there to pick up the pieces.

Baljeet. Now there was a history. Nerd to frenemy, to best friend, to crush and back to best friend. And surprisingly, confidant. All in the course of two summers. Though it could have been longer; he wasn't actually sure of the timeline. It felt like two summers anyway.

He confided all this to Baljeet years ago, after Baljeet had started dating Ginger. He didn't hold anything against Baljeet for dating Ginger; they made a cute couple. When he'd told Baljeet about his crush on him, the Professor had laughed, unsurprised, fully aware of Buford's feelings for him.

"It was not hard to determine Buford," he had stated in that annoying 'I am going to use small words so you will understand' tone of his. "I figured it out when you stopped giving me daily wedgies and started calling me by my actual name instead of referring to me as 'Nerd.'"

Buford had apologized for his behavior and Baljeet had waved the apology away, volunteering to help Buford and psychoanalyze him.

His diagnosis had been annoyingly straight forward: "You are attracted to strong females Buford. You like women who challenge you and who are not afraid to beat you up or verbally put you in your place. Most men are afraid of strong females, so this is an admirable quality. However, there is one caveat; you need to be careful when dating. You need to find a strong woman who will treat you as you deserve to be treated." When he had raised an eyebrow, Baljeet clarified. "You need to find a woman who is the right kind of strong. A woman who will love you and put you in your place, but who is not abusive. If a woman abuses you, I will not stand for it." He had smirked. "And I will call you out on your poor decision."

He suddenly found himself misty eyed. Baljeet and the others had always been there for him. Never in his life did he expect to find such a loyal group of best friends. "Isabella, Phineas, Ferb, Baljeet, Django, Irving...even the Fireside Girl alums. They all put up with him. Come to think of it, it was amazing they put up with him at all.

And then he found Gretchen. Well, not _found_ exactly. She had always been there. He just never bothered paying attention.

Until the night the Mindless Repulsive Pharmacists took over Danville and she slapped him across the face in the Fireside Girl Clubhouse, snapping him out of his panic. She had called him soldier.

It was love at first slap.

He started pursuing her weeks after the Mindless Repulsive Pharmacists Apacolypse. Or M.R.P.A for short.

He had bought her flowers, recited poetry, spoken to her in French.

She wanted none of it. "Buford, we're nine. I have a lot of things to do in life and I don't want to be tied down so early. Besides, Isabella needs a Commander in Chief to aide the Fireside Girls. If I'm distracted by you, I'm no good to her."

It was the biggest turn on. Beautiful, assertive and scary smart.

So he waited, the two becoming tentative friends for the rest of that summer and the years following. He couldn't remember a time when he had been more patient for anything or anyone. He chuckled; Baljeet thought he had lost his mind. But he hadn't lost his mind; he was in love.

Then, after what felt like years of waiting, it happened.

It was Freshman year of high school. She found him between classes, pushed him up against a locker and kissed him with so much force it knocked the wind out of him and made his legs buckle.

She was a tease from the very start.

They started dating soon after, her pushing him against the locker and running a hand down his thigh as they made out one week, his returning the favor the next week.

She made him happy. An emotion that up until about eleven years ago--or thereabouts--had been a foreign concept to him. Before Gretchen walked into his life, he had softened as a bully, but still walked around with some pent up aggression.

But the aggression had diminished since then, almost gone. It had been gone for eleven years now. He was a new man. And all because of her.

And in the morning, he was going to take the biggest step of his life. He was going to ask her to marry him.

He just hoped she'd say yes.

* * *

 

"Buford? Honey?" Gretchen flipped an egg in the frying pan, setting the pan back on the stove. "Breakfast is ready!" No response. She frowned. "Buford?"

"What?" He walked into the kitchen and yawned, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "What'd I miss?"

"Breakfast." She smiled, returning to the stove. "I'm making hash browns, eggs, bacon, and toast." She motioned with a spatula to the toaster in the corner. "It should be ready in a minute."

He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "Have I ever told ya how amazin you are?"

"Many times." She smirked, turning around and giving him a peck on the lips. "Do you ever get tired of saying it?" she teased.

"Nah." He sniffed the air. "Mmm-mm. That smells good."

"It should." She made a mock dramatic gesture, pressing the back of her palm to her forehead. "I've slaved for hours." She fell against him, pretending to faint. "Revive me."

"Kay." He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss. His eyes closed for a moment, only to open. "Ah, Gretch? Ya might wanna check the stove."

The playful deameanor dropped. "Why? What's wrong?" Buford pointed over her shoulder.

"Think the eggs are startin ta smoke."

"Oh dear." Gretchen righted herself, hurriedly turning the burner down. She scraped the spatula against the pan. "Shoot. They're burned."

"Eh. No big. They're just eggs. Here." He took the pan from her, scraping the burned eggs into the trashcan. "So Gretch, there's somethin I've been meanin ta ask ya--"

"Hold that thought." She took several small steps to the corner of the kitchen, grabbing the toast as it popped out of the toaster. "Toast? Check." She looked around the kitchen. "Hashbrowns are almost done cooking...will put bacon on in a minute..."

"Forget the bacon." Buford set the frying pan in the dish drainer side of the sink, running cold water into it before turning his attention to her.

"Forget the bacon?" Gretchen blinked at him. "But you love bacon. What's going on?"

"This." The former bully dropped to one knee, pulling a black velvet box from his shorts pocket and holding it up. "Gretchen, I know we've been together a long time now and--"

"Yes!" She grabbed the ring from him, sliding it on her finger. "Oh my gosh! It's beautiful!" She kissed him. "Where did you get it?"

"Few weeks ago. Phineas and I went shoppin for rings. He's looking for one for Isabella and--"

"Did he find one?"

"No, not yet. But I found the one you're wearin and--" He stood up, groaning from the effort. "Man, this body ain't what it used ta be--" he was cut off as Gretchen wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a passionate kiss. When she finally pulled away, he was breathless. "Man. If I'd a known a proposal would end in a kiss like that, I would have proposed sooner."

She smiled, taking his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the top of it. "So when are we getting married?"

"Probably to late to do it this year, but maybe in a year or two--"

"Next year?" She asked hopefully and he laughed.

"Yeah. Next year." He gazed into her eyes. "Why not? It'll come soon enough."

"Now all we need to do is tell our friends, hire a wedding planner, tell my family, tell your family, tell--"

Buford cut her off with another kiss. "Can we just be us for a sec?"

She returned the kiss. "Yes. We can just be us for a sec."

"Good." Buford sniffed. "Not ta dampen this happy moment, but--"

"It's the hashbrowns, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Ugh." She groaned, grabbing the now burned hashbrowns and dumping them into the trashcan. "Now we have burned hashbrowns, burned eggs, no bacon and toast." Gretchen picked up the lone slice of toast and started laughing.

Buford joined her, grabbing the toast from her and taking a bite. "I hate ta break it to ya, but this is burned too."

"Of course it is." Gretchen threw her hands up in mock defeat.

"Wanna make like other couples and go out ta breakfast?"

"I would love to. Let me get changed." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the kitchen.

Buford stared after her a moment, love struck all over again. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing a number. "Hey Dinnerbell. Remember the conversation we had last night?" He listened as the red head answered. "Yeah. I proposed this mornin. She said yes."


End file.
